Monthly Archives: September 2014

I don’t believe the only reason we’re here on earth is so that our souls can learn a new lesson. I believe in inner growth. I just don’t believe that’s all there is to it.

If that were so, then I have to wonder why the body and mind want so much to feel good; to be happy. We don’t require happiness to learn. To say we are here, as spiritual beings trapped inside human bodies, solely to learn and advance is like ignoring the use of color when viewing a painting. If it were as simple as that, why do we have taste buds? Heaven knows, we surely don’t need taste buds. And sex, for that matter, doesn’t need to be pleasurable, so let’s just get rid of all those nerve endings that can send the body and mind into those wonderful surreal places. We can surely proliferate the species without enjoying the process.

I have learned so much, and made so many spiritual strides in my four and a half decades, one would think I’d be the spiritual equivalent to Hercules. Whether in developing my true faith, or learning how to truly love, I keep advancing and becoming the full, whole being I know I need to be. But what about the emotions and sensory receptors that have no other purpose but for pleasure. Like color, they aren’t necessary, so why are they present? Our world doesn’t need color to exist. Yet, when viewing a multi-hued sunset, the mind’s introspection softens, while the eyes absorb such beauty. For what gain other than happiness.

Maybe our souls are here to learn that we are deserving beings that are meant to feel joy. Whether through the food we eat, or the glorious feeling of intimacy shared with another, or the euphoria of uncontrollable laughter. Not to mention the divine fullness felt within when we selflessly help another. Either way, we are given a vast palette of sensory receptors, by which to discover our own happiness. Happiness is the close-seated cousin to Love. They are never truly far from the other. And when we deny ourselves this happiness, we deny ourselves love. Like dropping out of school, resignation from the pursuit of happiness, always results in a downward spiral. Our children, friends and family are just as disappointed with us when we drop out of life, as we are with them when they drop out of school. But no one feels more disappointment than we do within ourselves.

As I move forward, becoming a better person, a better friend and a better companion – I want to do so walking along the path of happiness. I’ve walked down the road of misery, and it was a lonely, lonely road. If misery and self deprivation were part of our intended purpose, then they wouldn’t feel so terrible. Instead nothing about those two things feels right, regardless of how hard we impose them upon ourselves – there’s a reason for that. Those feelings, both the good and the bad tell us a good deal of what we need to know. And I know this – I don’t want to deny myself the chance to feel good. Feeling good just plain feels good. Nothing on the human body is without purpose, and nothing within our heart is there to not be fulfilled. If something or someone captures your heart and fills your body with life – there’s a reason. And if your body craves a certain flavor – take a bite.

It’s like medicine to sit with a blank page before me. Like many, I often turn away from that which I need. I need this, and yet – life – life, and its many obligations are ever present. At times I feel as though I don’t have the energy to inhale another breath, none alone fulfill my dreams.

But tonight, I sit, and patiently absorb what the blank page offers me. I get to enjoy the cadence of writing; the beats that fall within each syllable. My frustration with life and the clusterfuck of everything that swirls around me falls away once I take my seat, and turn my gaze inward. This white page is the doorway to my soul. Always has been. Chances are – it always will. Writing is my true north.

There are moments when I am nearly convinced I will not live long enough to write all that is within me. Recently someone asked me to think about the star toward which I’m aiming my life. I’ve been sitting with that thought for a few days now. In many ways it feels like that star rests in another galaxy, far, far away. But it doesn’t. It’s here. And much of that star rests within my hands, here and now.

But there is much work to be done. There are many leaps left for me to make. And I will. There is nothing more centering, more calming, more divine than when I dampen the din of the outside world, and listen to the one inside. Whether crafting a fictional story, or devoting my time to the completion of my memoir – all of these many genres hinge upon the same routine – I sit and stare at a blank page. I panic for a brief moment. Then it flows. Sometimes these words mean little to you but almost always they mean the world to me.

The great divide between the life you live and the life you want for yourself, will always be singular to you. For some its conquering the battlefield of fears that separate us from living a life alone and living a life with our forever person. For others it’s about claiming one’s voice; speaking their mind and owning their truths – becoming the person, they were always meant to be. This divide is part of the topography of every expanding soul. It is part of the expansion. The soul urges us to push forward because one of the integral reasons it’s here is to expand in that one direction. Generally, it’s the one area that causes us the most trepidation; the one area that causes us to pull back; the area that can easily spin our world upside down.

If you have found yourself staring at that divide, take a moment. Look out into the horizon – see your star. Find your focal point. Look to your side, see my words, and know that you are not leaping alone. Also too, know that you aren’t here to arrive at that star. You are here to find your inner strength, and to take the leap. You are here to travel, not to arrive.

Say it with me: It’s okay if I rest. It’s okay if I pause. It’s okay to laugh, and it’s okay to cry. But on my final day I will not look back, and see that I never made the leap. I may fall. But I will get up again, until one day I look back – and see behind me – the great divide.